


Find Each Other

by Laylah



Category: Resonance of Fate
Genre: M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-01
Updated: 2011-08-01
Packaged: 2017-10-22 01:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/232435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Too dark to do much like this," he points out.</p><p>One of the loose floorboards creaks. "I'm good in the dark," Zephyr says, close enough behind him that Vashyron can feel his breath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Find Each Other

**Author's Note:**

  * For [galerian_ash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/galerian_ash/gifts).



> I hope this appeals! I wasn't entirely sure what direction to take with it, but I tried my best. ^^;

It's shaping up to be a nice evening in, Vashyron thinks as he puts his feet up on the table. That last job earned him enough cash to take it easy for a while, he managed to barter for a half-decent bottle of booze today, and the reception on the tv tonight is more or less clear. The kid's sulky and quiet, but that's nothing new. Vashyron's kind of a pro at ignoring quiet sulking—why make more work for himself by paying attention to something like that? If the kid wants something, he can learn to speak up about it.

Tonight's offering on the tv is some kind of classy old horror flick, the kind where the bad guy's dressed as fancy as a Cardinal and the girls he's menacing wear these gauzy fluttery things. Vashyron's pretty sure it annoys the hell out of the kid, but maybe a little annoyance would get him to open up some. Besides, checking to see what's on the other station would mean levering himself out of the hollow of the couch to go turn the knob, and he's just gotten comfortable in the damn couch for once.

He's pretty sure the lights go out specifically because he was comfortably settled in for the evening.

"Shit," Vashyron says as the background hum of machinery goes silent and blackness drops like a curtain across the room. On a clear night, they'd have some light spill from Chandelier coming in the windows, but it looks like they were scheduled for rain tonight, so all they get is dark, thick and heavy. He gets his feet under him, preparing to haul himself up out of the pit of the couch. "Guess we better go kick the generator a couple of times." The backup generator on the roof isn't reliable enough to run full-time, but it should at least keep the lights on in here for a little bit while some unlucky bastard of a Hunter slogs over to the power plant to see what's gone wrong this time.

"What's your hurry?" Zephyr asks.

Vashyron pauses—not alarmed, of course, just...taking stock. Sensibly. This is the first time he's heard Zephyr volunteer conversation, he's pretty sure. Usually it takes a direct question and some solid staring down before he can pry a one-syllable answer out of the kid. "Too dark to do much like this," he points out.

One of the loose floorboards creaks. "I'm good in the dark," Zephyr says, close enough behind him that Vashyron can feel his breath. The suddenness puts Vashyron's nerves on edge, makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He remembers a chase through the frozen, darkened corridors of the Seminary. He remembers catching up, where there was finally enough light to see: the quick, brutal firefight, the shattered glass falling around them like snow, the last shot he took at point-blank range—and then there's a gap, a blurry spot where Vashyron can't remember quite how things happened after that.

That blur is the reason he took the kid in, because it's the second time something like that has happened to him. The first time saved his life, and the second time...the second time must have saved Zephyr's, because there was _no way_ Vashyron could have missed. It felt like a kind of kinship, knowing they'd been through the same kind of weird shit. They'd both cheated death. But maybe he's been thinking too much about that, and not enough about the reason he had to go try to take the kid down in the first place.

"Good in the dark, huh?" Vashyron says, keeping his voice calm. You get a feel for this kind of thing, as a Hunter. You learn when you need to not make a fuss to keep a situation from getting out of hand. "I could have gotten you talking days ago just by turning the lights off?"

"Most people don't want me talking," Zephyr says. He hasn't moved. Vashyron wants to turn and face him, however little good it would do, but he doesn't. "Most people don't want me doing anything these days. After...." He trails off.

"Hunters aren't most people," Vashyron says. "And I'm not even most Hunters." The words come out different in the dark. He would have said the same thing with the light still on, but it would have been coming through a front: he would have a smirk on, and it would be a boast. Another line in the endless self-advertising game that goes with being a freelancer instead of taking a Cardinal's payroll and a Cardinal's orders. Right now, in the black of this too-still room, it comes out plain. Honest.

"You're not scared of me," Zephyr says, softly enough that it's hard to read his tone. He curls his fingers in the collar of Vashyron's shirt, holding tight.

The flippant answer doesn't come, again. "No," Vashyron says. He reaches back slowly, so the kid can hear him moving, at the very least, and lays his hand over Zephyr's. The kid's hand is cold, so he leaves his right there, sharing his own warmth. "You've done some messed-up stuff, that's true. But that's not all there is to you."

Zephyr takes a breath, slow, audible. "How do you know?" Like an honest question, not like a threat.

"I guess maybe I don't," Vashyron says. He can feel Zephyr stiffen, tendons flexing in the hand under his. "But I'm giving you a chance anyway. It's up to you to show me whether that was a dumb idea."

Zephyr pulls his hand away. "Don't you care whether you live or die?"

Vashyron stares straight ahead into the dark. He keeps thinking maybe he's starting to adjust, maybe he can see faint shapes, but it's probably just his mind playing tricks on him. "Course I do," he says. "We've got a few things in common," he goes on. A floorboard creaks behind him. Can Zephyr see, or does he just not need to? "Maybe enough that we could stick together. I wanted to give it a try."

"You wanted to stick together," Zephyr says quietly. There's the soft cloth-shifting sound of his steps—his boots barely make a sound against the floor, more like a hunting animal than like your average Hunter. "With me."

He drops into Vashyron's lap, a sudden, warm weight on Vashyron's thighs. _Not_ where Vashyron thought they were going with this, but he'll take it. At least this makes it easy to be sure where the kid is. He rests his hands on Zephyr's hips, tilts his head to look where he figures Zephyr's face must be, and says, "This is your move. I'll follow your lead."

Zephyr leans really close, hands on Vashyron's shoulders, kneading slowly. "I don't understand you," he whispers against Vashyron's throat.

"That's all right," Vashyron says. He wraps his arms around Zephyr's middle, gently, trying to make sure it doesn't feel like holding him still. "It's always hard for people to figure each other out."

Zephyr answers with his teeth, little nipping bites along the line of Vashyron's jaw—not really sharp enough to hurt, just...trying him out, maybe. Seeing what will happen.

Vashyron turns his head so the next bite turns into a sharp-edged, awkward kiss, and Zephyr makes a sound in his throat like a trapped animal, fingers digging into Vashyron's shoulders hard. It's sloppy and desperate at first, but Vashyron tries to lead by example, turning the kiss into something slower, more sensual. The kid's not his usual type by a long shot, but not bad-looking, either, and sometimes everybody has to find a way to connect so they don't just get ground up in Basel's gears. If this is what Zephyr needs, Vashyron can give it to him.

They're just starting to relax, starting to get to where this feels pretty comfortable, when there's a pop and a buzz and the lights come back on. The tv picks up in the middle of a public service announcement, and Zephyr makes it to the other side of the room so fast he's practically flying. His eyes are wide, his mouth flushed and kiss-swollen. It would be a good look for him, if he weren't also just about ready to bolt through the window.

Vashyron gets up slowly, no sudden movements, and crosses the room to shut the tv off. Neither of them need a pep talk about the new mining projects on the bottom levels anyway. "Not so comfortable with the lights on, huh?" he says.

Zephyr shakes his head once, barely more than a twitch. They'll have to work on that, if the kid's going to stick around and learn the Hunter business.

Not tonight, though. Vashyron hits the switch on the wall and kills the lights. He can hear Zephyr start toward him immediately. "Then I guess I'll have just have to get good in the dark, too."


End file.
